Zayn Tattoos Novels & Stories

But we would have got what we wanted" he said. "Speak about grounding! Dammit! What if they take our phones"? She asked him. "We do the worst! 😂 we don't come back home... where will they call us? Nowhere? But you know what? Let's cross the bridge once we get there honey" he said. They went to Yazan's room, sat down and checked out tattoo designs. "What type do you wanna make? Tribal, Realism, New school, biomechanical, American Traditional.. Which one"?

Suddenly, the tattoo gun stopped buzzing. Zayn slipped out from under me, and began to remove his dark gloves, his tattooed muscles rippling from that simple task. Confused and a bit disoriented by my own sexual needs, still in my doggy position, I asked, “w-what’s wrong? Why are you stopping?” “Go home,” he said, his voice a bit sharp at the end. I swallowed, switching to a sitting position, “why? Did…did I do something wrong?” He glanced at me, then away. Taking the tattoo gun and trying to clean it and keep it away.

After having been mocked by Axel, he had gone for a haircut before he made his way to Milo, and he felt free not to have the hair brushed down his neck. He hadn't gotten rid of all the hair like Milo, whose side profession as a kickboxer needed the low cut. But he didn't need the tattoo, which he had cover every inch of his upper body with. On his chest, to which he had drawn his mother, just on his heart, Zayne smirked. If only he wasn't Donna's greatest heartache, then that might seem adorable, but Milo, as if to avenge not being able to smoke, was bent on being guilty of every other atrocity.

The shirt clung to his body, accentuating his chest and abs, and his bicep and tricep flexed when he ran his hand through his hair. Inky black tattoos covered the upper part of his right arm, creeping into his tank top, piquing her curiosity. “Are you planning on killing me? I’ve been running for hours. My legs are shaking.” Layla huffed, looking away, saving herself from the embarrassment of being caught, and she tried to lift her right leg, but it refused to budge. “See, I can’t even feel them any more.” “Hours? You’ve been running for just forty minutes.” Zayne stated as he sat by her side.

“Miss Annie, please don’t misunderstand. Madam Cross wanted to see how the tattoo turned out, so she asked me to come by.” Madam Cross frowned. “Annie, I invited Julie. Since she’s already had it done, we might as well use it as a reference.” I turned toward Zach. He was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He looked up at me for a second before lowering his eyes again. “It’s just a tattoo.” I walked over to him. “That’s my Godmother’s tattoo.” He finally looked at me. “There are plenty of designs at the tattoo shop. Pick another one. I’ll pay for it.”

ZAYN I got closer, only to be met with a douchebag trying to force himself on a girl. I instantly saw red as she pleaded for him to let her go, a slight tremble in her voice but he didn't budge. “What part of let her go don't you fucking understand!” I rushed to him, throwing a punch right at his face to get him off her. He fell to the ground like a spineless piece of shit. I was expecting him to stand up and charge at me but he laid there on the ground like a pussy holding on to his broken nose.

And the irony of the situation was not lost on them. Opportunity which Tyson exploited to brag that he had a girl on her way to join them. “Glad I didn’t rely on Casanova here to bring girls,” he told us. Zayn who was sitting on the bench between Malik and Darren seemed to be the quiet one of the three. He had red hair shaved on both sides of his face, and long and styled at the top, with an equally red two inches beard, a white button-down and black slacks. He looked like a mix between elegance and bad-boy, with obvious tattoos on his arms, visible by his rolled-up sleeves.

I turned quickly in his arms and I regretted it instantly. I nearly choked on my saliva. Holy fuck! Zane was practically half naked. His jet black hair was wet and messy giving him a bad boy look. He was wearing nothing but basketball shorts. Which was lying low, down his waist, bringing the v-shape of his groin in view Fuck!.... his body was hot. I swallowed hard and my heart started drumming against my chest. My eyes swept his fine torso and my eyes caught the sexiest tattoo engraved on his right shoulder down to his chest.

he murmured quietly. “So don’t look away from me, Sarang.” Hearing his words, she slowly looked up at him again. Her heart was beating fast, but this time she didn’t try to hide it. “How can you still love me?” Sarang asked softly. Instead of answering immediately, Zayren slowly lifted himself up and began unbuttoning his shirt. Sarang watched him in silence as he removed it and tossed it aside. Her gaze instinctively dropped to his chest, where she could clearly see her name tattooed across his skin. But this time something else caught her attention... a faint, old mark just beside it.

Bertha asked after sipping her tequila. "Which–what?" Zayna replied with a playful laugh. "I know you two stayed in the same room during the hotel opening event. Something must have happened, right? Besides, you’ve known each other for years now. How many years has it been?" Bertha teased, her expression mischievous. Zayna covered part of her face, appearing embarrassed, though her laughter was barely contained as she shook her head lightly. "Tell me, does Benjamin have any tattoos?" Zayna dropped her hand, her expression surprised. "Benjamin doesn’t have any tattoos, but he has a mole on his left thigh, near his hip."